Sent packing but Williams is Serena in acceptance

Date: January 24 2013

Richard Hinds

THE women's final is not until Saturday, but one thing seemed certain to be settled. We would find out the life expectancy of a linesman who foot-faults a wounded Serena Williams, not long after the American had done to a tennis racquet what Julia Gillard once did to Tony Abbott during question time.

Would there be profanity? Ritual disembowelment? The type of ill-tempered implosion that blighted Williams' defeat by Samantha Stosur in the 2011 US Open final?

Mercifully, none of the above. After an agonising quarter-final loss to her young countrywoman, Sloane Stephens, there was just a perfunctory wave from a woman who had more often performed a victory jig on Rod Laver Arena.

So to the press conference. A place where Williams has snarled and denied when force-fed a bitter defeat. Where she would make it clear she had never been beaten by an opponent, and only ever suffered at her own hand.

This time, she might have done so with justification. The swollen ankle on which she had played a doubles match the previous day. The back that had locked in training and which flared when she stopped short chasing down a drop shot. ''I couldn't rotate that much,'' said Williams. If only she had John Inverarity in her corner.

So would Williams spit bile at her inquisitors? Bemoan her fate and, with a graceless wink and nudge, make it clear she remained unbeatable on her day? Would she sell Stephens short? Not a bit.

The injuries? ''I think at this stage, everyone in the locker room has something wrong with them,'' said Williams. Rather than bemoan her fate, it was only because her true feelings - ''This is the worst fortnight of my life'' - had been captured by a courtside microphone that Williams revealed them.

Of Stephens, she said: ''I think my opponent played well and was able to do a good job.'' Which, by previous grudging standards, is tantamount to Williams nominating her conqueror for WTA Tour player of the year. Of her unexpected departure, Williams was resigned rather than grim. When she misunderstood a question about retirement - Williams thought the reporter meant her career, not the match - she laughed at her mistake. When reminded she had smashed a racquet, Williams admitted she had smiled when the job was done.

When the press conference convener said the next question would be ''the last in English'', Williams shot back, ''I don't take foreign questions.'' Although those who have heard her talk acting, puppies and interior decorating might beg to differ.

From less competitive athletes, such relatively sanguine responses might have seemed the routinely self-effacing end to a disappointing day. But, from Williams, it was pleasantly revealing.

We have come to respect Williams for her performances - even to consider, after 15 grand slam singles titles, her case in the debate about the greatest female player in history. But, in defeat, she has seldom been easy to like. Perhaps because the standards Williams sets for herself mitigated against the acceptance, or even the tolerance, of defeat. This was an altogether more worthy, more dignified figure.

Despite Williams' obvious discomfort, the praise she apportioned Stephens was well deserved. To the 19-year-old, Williams had once been a poster on a bedroom wall. Now she was a wounded prey. In such circumstances, many would-be hunters freeze. Stephens suffered a few self-doubts near the end of the second set. But she steeled herself and seized her chance.